Islamic Architecture

                I checked a couple of books out of the library. One was about gardens. It held pictures of the Alhambra in Spain amongst other places around the world. Next to estates in England, France, or wherever, lush hedges with fountains abounded, flowers and trees too. Some were regimented into extreme order, others were so wild that I wondered how workers could get in to prune, or even how someone could walk in it to savor the view.

                The other book was on Islamic architecture. It centered mostly on places within Iran, or former Persian or Babylonian empires and influence. Ruins, gates, walls, full mosques, madrassas, and mausoleums overflowed the pages. It was a marvelous coffee table book of deluxe strength paper and monumental size worthy of the subject.

                Of course, it did not contain Bedouin tents or clay kasbahs that serve as compounds for entire tribes or villages. The writer even acknowledged when something was borrowed from pre-Islamic sources, whether the prior Sassanian shapes, Roman, or Byzantine influence when former buildings were torn down and materials were re-used. Or the previous Christian use was overturned.

                Many of the buildings were breathtaking, but I am partial to the deep blue of the tiles, and the white or black of the marble, the variety of granites, as well as jelliq scrolling. Not too impressed with the Arabic lettering because not being able to read it, I felt the need to withhold approval of something I might object to. (It might state no one can intercede for another, or declare that those who insist on holding on to past prophets such as Jesus or Moses are going to hell if they do not accept Mohammed.) Having read the Koran, I know there are any number of verses of which I would not approve.

                But the thing that struck me most was all the geometric designs. Now I like them in general. I always enjoyed in art or math classes when people would have us inscribe a triangle within a circle, or a circle within a square, and then color it. They even used to tell us to doodle scribbling in this direction or that until we eventually closed up, returning to the origin. We would then color each segment slightly different and post them on the wall of the classroom, or kitchen refrigerator at home. Pinks and oranges, blues and reds, greens and purples, or whatever making a variety of shapes, some pointed, others curved. And I like to look at carpets scrolling from one image to another.

                Islamic architecture loves to scroll on. In fact, we are told it reveals complexities leading one to contemplate infinity. But I find when I follow the path way, it does not lead me closer to spiritual thought. Now I admit I prefer stained glass whose pictures center my brain on one thought at a time. The faithfulness of the shepherd to the sheep, the Savior letting the little children come to Him, pictures of the parables-stories Jesus told, or of famous accounts of holy men such as Daniel in the lion’s den or Moses with the Ten Commandments.

                Not that I have been surrounded by these. For the better part of my adult life, I have attended stark Protestant churches with only a cross to look at. Some only had folding chairs, or those wooden benches called pews that make kids squirm for their uncomfortable hardness. So it should be clear I am not of the iconographic branches that pray to saints, or could be accused of worshipping idols. Words alone from music or sermons drew us to worship. But I was exposed to modest use of stained glass in my childhood, and remember looking at the pictures when my mind wandered from the sermon.

                It struck me that following those lines does not lend itself to delving further into the unknown, being fully the equivalent of doodling. It gives you something to do when you are bored, disengaging you from your surroundings. Just as a person not listening to a sermon could count the number of people in a row, multiplying by the number of rows to figure out the attendance, or count the number of beams in the ceiling, cracks in the walls, numbers of windows, or whatever. They merely keep you busy until you can escape out the door. And if there is a temporary escape while there, it is to a nothingness of not thinking rather than to contemplation of the Almighty.

                Now I grant that many of the buildings are actually beautiful. I appreciate scalloped edges well enough, black and gold, or varied tiles. One example not in the book but remembered from on-line searches is the Tin Mall Mosque in Morocco. The repairs are probably finished by now. This was a historic place from which the Almohads rose up to overthrow the Almoravids, and sent more Moors into Spain to keep them under control for an additional few hundred years. Of course it wouldn’t have been in the book anyway since it was limited to Iran’s historic influence.

                But there are a few other comments I’d like to make. About the beautiful mosques, less is more. People have finite minds so giving them something more concrete, limited is good. And finally, get over your false humility. The buildings in the book did not have intentional flaws. They were amazing because they were majestic. However when you take something that was beautiful and needs repair, do it right. Don’t put some inadequate or ugly thing up to complete the enclosure and to show what is original and what is new, as the Tin Mall people did.

                Now some of the folks did appreciate this point and had restored their buildings based on old drawings of what they looked like. But I for one, am tired of buying flawed merchandise: rings with scratches in the stone or rugs with strings and knots in the wrong place just so you can claim, “We know we’ll never be perfect.” True, but your souvenirs don’t have to be broken to be worthwhile. You’d probably sell more too.

                As for following scrolling lines, after a few rows of it, I’ll likely say, “Whatever,” or “Yeah, I got it” just as I do not contemplate the number of times some item is repeated on wallpaper. I note the pattern and the overall effect. I appreciate the colors and move on-unless of course I am the one installing the paper. But I have done my share of papering, and am not likely to do so again in this lifetime. In fact, at this point, I am more likely to tear out old paper, and go for solid colored walls. However, I might do some tiling, in which some appreciation of varied colors, shapes, and sizes would be appropriate. But while learning from you what creativity can be made with that substance, it will be keeping in mind the concept of moderation as well as intricacy and beauty.

                It is not that I am incapable of contemplating infinity. When I was young, Calculus offered the opportunity to compare one infinite series (or number) to another to see which one was larger. Looking into space or studying maps of the universe is awe-inspiring. Contemplating time or the lack of it in eternity is equally mind numbing for one senses his inability to comprehend-literally to hold on to it. But see that is nothing compared to the majesty of the One who created it all. And since I know Him and call Him Father, the feeling of insignificance in a void flees and I am full of security, warmth, and love.

                “The steadfast love of the Lord is everlasting. It is new every morning. Great is His faithfulness.” So I do not have to worry about what I cannot comprehend. “He remembers how we are formed, He knows we are but dust….” I have only to trust to Him, and be at peace with my limited awareness, because He has everything under control. So you can keep your scrolled doodling. Give my small brain a reminder of the Shepherd who loves me, and I can savor spiritual thoughts of eternity with Him. My Intercessor, my Savior who suffered on the cross and died for me, whom I look forward to worshipping and serving at the heavenly feast, in the new heavens and new earth, as well as now.

                These lead me to consider not the ephemeral. Not vague concepts, for the object of my concentration is the character of, the mercy and majesty of the personal, individual Being who is the Almighty. This, in fact, keeps me on topic of why I sought spiritual enlightenment to start with. I leave the edifice with encouragement, and strength to continue my daily desire to serve Him, instead of having to feign spiritual stupor and the reality of zoning out from the rigmarole. I do note that even our pews and folding chairs have got to be more comfortable than prayer rugs or even lush carpeting where you sit, kneel, and stand. But you do have some awesome buildings with great arches and architectural details.

P.S.               I will admit one downside to our churches. While you must face the front with someone's feet and rear near your face, we stand close enough together that others can hear my off-tune singing, screeching, and whatnot. But we do get to sit for long periods of time, off the floor, and with our families and congregation all together. (Women with the men, and children included until it is time to dismiss them to their classes.) I also appreciate the grandeur of some of the great cathedrals, as well as churches of a variety of shapes and sizes even if from different denominations. But of course, the import of any house of worship is the quality of the contact with the Almighty, not the artwork, size or cost of the building.